Dead Flowers
by IndependentWinter
Summary: There is a theory that all nations had human lives but when they died were reincarnated as Nations, and these are some of them. No ships, no family(Like Canada and America aren't brothers). Warning: Some of these can get extremely dark so be warned.
1. America-Cold, Cold, Cold

**Hope you guys like this. It's my first story on this website, feel free to post reviews.**

#1: America or Alfred F. Jones

-Died of Anorexia Nervosa

* * *

16 years old, Alfred hated himself. Everyday at school it was the same.

"What a fag!"

"Fat ass!"

"Disgusting!"

It went on ever since he was a child.

His mother and father both tried everyday to help. It never worked. Alfred liked to think back too when he was a child. The days were so much better.

Alfred sometimes thought, why? Even though the brain knows that food is what it needs to function, for some reason the same brain convinced him to not give it food. This was just one of his many strange thoughts.

He hated not eating, he hated how selfish he was being. Their were children all across the world that didn't even have access to food, but here he was, sitting in his own self-pity. He laughed at this. What a fucking loser. He would think to himself. Thinking was what felt like the only thing he could do anymore, everything felt like a chore, walking, eating, anything. He would just lay in bed, surprised every morning that he was still alive.

He was 14 when he was diagnosed with Anorexia Nervosa. He couldn't be taken to therapy even through his parents were loving and well meaning, they didn't have enough money. His mother also had Anorexia but she had recently recovered, his father like most people had a hard time empathizing but Alfred new he was trying.

…..

That day was like any other, going to school, getting harassed, going home, laying down. Today he listened to music. His favorite song was Paradise by Coldplay. He loved to just sit down and think about it all. Para- Para- Paradise. He sang along in his head. This could be para- para- Paradise. It made him think about his childhood, his family, his dog, his cat, his Anorexia, everything he hated and loved. By now you would think he'd be yearning for food but he had gotten used to the feeling of no weight in his stomach.

He wanted to go for a walk. Strange. He thought. I never want to do anything. But he got out of bed and walked too his dresser. Maybe it's the last act of a dead men. He laughed dryly. He threw on two shirts and a jacket-enough to hide his boney frame-and walked out the door. He loved his town, a small town in Maine. He loved looking at everything he had known since his childhood.

That one swing no one would go on cause they thought it was cursed. He laughed. We were so stupid when they were kids. Alfred continued. Oh. He looked over to his left. The old clubhouse. He smiled. All the kids would gather there and talk about random stuff. Trading Pokemon cards, sometimes Yu-gi-oh cards, some kids would go off in the corner and talk about anime or drawing. He was a sport kid, he loved Football, Basketball, Baseball, you name it he loved it.

Alfred wanted to laugh but all he felt was tears. He forgot about how much he loved this town, this small, insignificant town in the middle of Maine. Cold, cold, cold tears. This could be para-para-paradise.

He walked-no he ran, he wanted to escape those memories. Alfred ran home. He ignored his mother calling to him as he ran up the stairs. He slammed his door and cried in his bed. His cold, cold, cold bed. Alfred put the covers over his head too shut out the world, he was crying so much he barely heard his mother walk in. "Alfred Jones." She whispered kneeling at the side of his bed. Alfred stopped wailing and slowly moved the covers from over his head.

His mother's blue eyes stared into his, her strawberry blonde hair framing her face perfectly. She gently placed her hands on the sides of Alfreds face. "Sit up." She quietly demanded. Alfred did as he was told, and sat on his bed, his face tear stained. His mother's hands remained on his face as she sat next to him on his blue sheeted bed. "Turn to me Alfred." Again Alfred did as he was told.

She slid her arms around Alfred. "It's okay baby." Alfred returned the hug and fresh tears welled at his eyes. "You're beautiful. I love you so much. Your now that right."

"Y-yes," He sniffled. "I do."

"Then why?" Alfreds mother asked tears threatening to fall down her face as well. "Why must you do this to yourself?" Alfreds hugged harder. He wanted to scream his moms name over and over, he felt hysterical.

…..

They remained like that for what felt like hours until it was time for bed. Alfred felt like a baby again, his mother kissed him and said goodnight. "I'll see your in the morning." She paused "I love you so much darling." and with that she closed his door. Alfred replied weakly "I love you to."

…..

That morning, Alfred F. Jones was pronounced dead by a heart attack.

July 4th 2001-June 27th 2018

"Goodbye, my Dearest."


	2. England-16 years

**Feel free to post reviews!**

 **#2 England or Arthur Kirkland**

 **-Died of drug overdose**

 **He loved it, the illusions, everything, it made him feel happy. The rush, the adrenaline. That's why he never wanted to stop sniffing it, if he stopped it would bring him back to the harsh reality of life.**

 **When Arthur stopped it felt as though the world would shatter, it made him feel sick.** _ **The memories, just please stop the memories!**_ **He hated everything about reality, every. Single. Thing. The only thing the world had given him was suffering, but when he was on drugs, they took all that away.**

 **He started doing drugs 3 years ago when his 16 year old son died. All Arthur remembered was that hospital bed and the boys face. His face. The face that had smiled so widely before was now laying there in that stupid hospital after being hit by a car. He had held his hand and told him everything would be okay, he was a dirty liar. This was never meant to happen, he was so young, he had so many dreams, he wanted to be a astronaut, to work for nasa but now he couldn't do that. It was so unfair.**

 **A few months after that his wife left. Then his last and only remaining son ran away. His family had been everything to him.** _ **So why? Dammit why?**_

 **Arthurs only escape was to not think about them, but that's impossible when everything he did reminded him of them, the living room where when they were younger they would always play and watch movies, his room where he and his wife used to sleep together, the kitchen where Arthur's wife had tried to teach him to cook, the garage where his family would always watch him practice for upcoming shows with his band. The simplest of actions would make him cry.**

 **So he started doing crack, then he did more and more and more. Artur grew immune to smaller doses so they started getting bigger so now here he was 3 am, bouncing off walls.**

 **Arthur laughed at the creatures swirling around him, he twitched. His eyes were red and glazed over and he couldn't sit still, he had to follow the creatures they called to him around his house, they joked with him. But right now he was angry, the**

 **creatures they wouldn't stop running from him, his mind was all over the place.**

 **All the sudden he felt hot all over the place, he mumbled angrily, he wanted another line, no he needed another line. Arthur poured it out and sniffed it up, he twitched more, he felt hotter, but he didn't care, it felt good. Wait what if someone was watching him, he snapped his head around and started breathing heavily, what was this feeling, there was someone here he knew it, he walked around the house, his breathing was sharper now. He groaned, his stomach hurt, he ran to his bathroom, he vomited, so much. He felt like he couldn't breath, was there someone watching him?**

 **Arthurs chest hurt, was he overdosing? He ran to his phone, his lungs screaming in opposition, he dialed 999. A woman answered the phone**

" **Hello this is 999, what is your emergency?" Arthur breathed in heavily "I….I think I'm…..I'm overdosing."**

" **Where do you live sir?" She asked. Arthur gave her his address and his location in the house. "Ok an ambulance is on it's way." Then the operator asked multiple questions.**

" **Is there anyone else with you?" and many more. Arthur felt like he was going to faint, he was panicking. "Okay sir, stay calm, you need to breath in and out."**

" **Lay down on your side and try to stay awake with me."**

" **Don't stop talking to me, tell me what you feel. Tell me what's happening."**

 **Arthur tried, he really did but he passed out. First responders rushed him to the hospital. For 2 days doctors tried to get him responsive. All attempts failed.**

… **.**

 **On August 2nd 2008 Arthur Kirkland was pronounced dead from a drug overdose.**

 **May 1st 1970-August 2nd 2008**

" **The best father one could ask for."**


	3. Canada-No one, No one

**Sorry this chapter took so long to come out! I was busy the whole week and to add to that my computer was acting up. Also this chapter was going to be France but I really couldn't think of what to do with him. I promise i'll get that one out by next week. I'm sorry this one is so short! Oh and btw I really appreciate all your reviews, they motivated me a lot!**

 **#3 Canada or Matthew Williams**

 **-Died of Starvation due to child neglect.**

* * *

Matthews life was never as expected, he wasn't like most children his age. It's not because he was special, not because he was stupid, it was just that no one knew him. He didn't go to school, technically in the governments eyes he didn't even exist, and sometimes he felt as if no one knew he existed. There was no one to even care about his health, no one to make sure he was fine, and no one to love him. No one.

The only thing he had was his teddy bear, most people would call a nine year old childish for carrying around a stuffed animal, but it truly was the only thing he had. So in a room that lacked anything except Matthew and a worn down teddy bear, he sat, he sat for hours, it's not like he had anything else to do. If he was a normal kid he would have ran to his mother and asked for a cookie. _Or is that what normal kids do?_ Matthew thought.

Do normal kids eat cookies? do normal kids play outside? do normal kids smile everyday? Is that what normal kids do? He wouldn't know, he'd probably never know.

His mother wouldn't care if he was hungry, she was always working, and even if she wasn't working she'd be drunk. Matthews mother might have been beautiful, maybe if his dad was still alive. Maybe she wouldn't be drinking if her husband was alive. But even if she was before she no longer had beauty. Her skinny head was always framed by blond un-brushed, wild hair, her green eyes were sunken down, she had a bony body and a constantly irritated aura around her.

It was almost the same with Matthew, but instead of an irritated aura, he had nothing, he didn't have the energy to exert one. The only thing he had the energy to think about was food. He wanted it so bad, the luxury of a full stomach. The taste in his mouth, he wanted it so bad. He hugged his teddy bear tighter. He couldn't even remember how food tasted, Matthew wondered how he was even alive.

Was he dead yet, the suffering had got to be over soon. _Just die._ He didn't want the torture of thinking of food, he didn't want to spend his days doing nothing except breathing and sleeping. His mother didn't care enough, he couldn't even think of anyone else that could have cared. The only person he knew was his mother and teddy. Maybe he could have known his father, but he died 4 years ago, and that's the time his mother started drifting away from him.

She took his death so hard, she couldn't function and in some ways still can't. She was so attached to him she relied on him so much. But now he's gone.

Matthew though couldn't remember him, and he frankly didn't want to.

He laid down on the floor, it hurt to move. But weirdly his stomach didn't hurt, he was apathetic. He didn't care if he died, he didn't care about anything. He felt weirdly happy, he didn't smile though, instead he cried. He remembered his childhood, he remembered his mother, he remembered everything. He didn't feel hungry anymore. He changed his mind, he didn't want to die, he wanted to live, he wanted to live. His sight started to fade. No he wanted to live! He felt lightheaded. He felt like he was dreaming.

 _I want to live! I want to live!_

He couldn't hear anymore.

 _Please! Please!_

He couldn't touch.

 _Please….I want to live…_

He was gone.

…

Matthew Williams died of starvation on December

7th 2009.

July 1st 2000-December 7th 2009

"No one deserves to die like this young man did."


	4. France-One Night can Change you

**Okay this is kinda annoying, I've been trying to fix some mistakes in chapters and I've waited five day AND NOTHING HAS HAPPENED! I know you have to wait awhile for it to start working but COME ON! I did have to change this theory a little cause some of it didn't correlate with reality I didn't make any drastic changes though. Anyway let's move on, hope you like this chapter!**

 **#4 France or Francis Bonnefoy**

 **-Rape victim, male prostitute, died of AIDS(You can't really die of AIDS so I had to change that part).**

* * *

 **Sometimes Francis wondered if he could have prevented this. Gotten an actual job, stayed off the streets. But no, he had to turn bad so now because of his stupidity he lay'd in this hospital bed.**

 **He was alone and scared. He kept remembering that horrible moment. It wouldn't leave his brain alone. That hour or maybe it was 2, of torture.**

 **Francis didn't want to tell anyone, he didn't like to tell anyone. He felt so alone, he felt so, so alone. That day would change him forever.**

 **Male prostitution.** _ **How strange.**_ **Francis had always thought. Francis came from a relatively poor family. He wanted to provide for his family but no jobs would take a poor man, so his only solution was prostitution. At least that's what he told himself. He had always been told he was good looking so he might as well use it to his advantage.**

…

 **It was a normal day for Francis, he walked through the back streets of France looking for one of his 'clients'. He was then approached by a woman, he immediately got a bad feeling from her, she had brown hair that covered half her face and all black on. this wasn't his client, was it? He asked her name. "Oh my names Adele." Yeah, this was definitely not his client. "What's your name?" Francis reluctantly told his name. "I like that name." She said smiling. "Well I have to go now, I have somewhere to be." He started to walk past the woman. She didn't take kindly to this. She bit her lip and grabbed Francis. "Hey!" He exclaimed. She brought Francis closer to her face. "You make one more sound and I'll tell everyone you raped me." Francis eyes widened.**

 **He opened his mouth to speak but immediately closed it. He didn't want to get in trouble. "Follow me." She led him to her house which was close to the spot he was waiting for his client. She locked her door behind her and stared at Francis. She smiled a sadistic smile she grabbed his wrist and slammed him on the ground.**

 **That's where the memory stopped. Well, that's where Francis wanted it to stop. He remembered every disgusting detail of that night and they always clung to him. It's strange how one single day can change the way you see the world and the people in it. That was the worst part. It wasn't the rape, it wasn't the diseases he got from it, it was his mind.**

 **Rapist no matter what gender don't just rape you, they destroy your entire being. Your mental, your physical, your emotions, they destroy everything.**

 **Francis felt dirty all the time, even more since he had been raped. He felt as though he couldn't tell anyone. No one believed him, because by their standards 'Men can't be raped'. What a bunch of bullshit, they weren't him, why should they be able to say what is and isn't rape. He wanted to die, he wished tis stupid fucking disease would kill him already.**

 **Maybe he would be reborn. Maybe he would be able to live a good life. Maybe he would have money so he didn't have to resort to prostitution, maybe he would be born somewhere else.**

 **He wanted to sleep but he wasn't comfortable, he couldn't turn over to his side otherwise an alarm would go off because of his IV. He hated hospitals, they always brought bad thing, every single thing that can be viewed as good could be twisted in some way. Birth, stillbirth. Sex, STDs. He could go on, he didn't want to live in a world with these problems.**

 **He fell asleep not even knowing that would be the last time he would ever fall asleep.**

 **No one would remember him.**

 _ **That was fine.**_

…

 **Francis Bonnefoy was pronounced dead by Pneumonia on February 17th, 2005.**

 **July 14th, 1979-February 17th, 2005**

" **If I could go back in time and help him. I would."**


End file.
